United In Blood : PT I : VIRUS
by Penelope Jadewing
Summary: For the first time in hundreds of years, the Ninja World is at peace. A hard won peace, spearheaded by the reign of the Sixth Hokage, and brought to completion by the Seventh. But there are those, robbed of purpose, who flounder, and their desperation will lead them to grab hold of a cause that will threaten every good thing Naruto worked so hard for. Post-Boruto
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is something I have planned... It takes place in my** ** _As The Masks Crack_** **universe, about 20 years post The Last movie. I currently am in the middle of Camp NaNo, plus ATMC and several other ongoing fics, but what the heck. This will probably only be updated very sparingly, but it will be updated, so long as the plot cooperates. That's what's caused many of my other fics to stall... so we'll see how this goes.**

 **Without further ado... Enjoy!**

 **~Penelope**

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 **United in Blood  
Part I: Virus**

 **Summary:  
For the first time in hundreds of years, the Ninja World is at peace. A hard won peace, spearheaded by the reign of the Sixth Hokage, and brought to completion by the Seventh. But there are those, robbed of purpose, who flounder, and their desperation will lead them to grab hold of a cause that will threaten every good thing Naruto worked so hard for.**

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Prologue

Round child's hands clapped together in perfect hand signs. They moved with as much fluidity and elegance as any skilled chunin, proving this young ninja's level as far above her peers. The pause at the last sign was of appropriate duration, as she focused her chakra and then splayed her right palm toward the sky. She curled her small fingers, frowned hard and ground her jaw, and the man observing her could clearly envision her funneling her chakra to her hand. After all, it was a technique he had performed hundreds of times over. Sparks began circling on her pale skin.

 _That's it…_

While he tried to hide the fact that he was leaning forward in anticipation, she gave a swift stomp of her foot, and the dam that was the surrounding peaceful silence collapsed. No longer could the man hear the sounds of the training field around them, or the distant hum of his family in the nearby compound. The wind practically died. For the howl of a thousand birds pierced the air instead, declaring to all the world that a budding Lightning user had just learned her signature jutsu.

The beam on her face was the best part, though. She grinned at her sparkling hand, the bright electric blue of her own pulsating chakra casting odd, flickering shadows across her face.

"Chidori…" she breathed, watching the lightning in awe, until her great grin had relaxed into reverence.

He held his own smile beneath the thick black mask that he always wore, and this one only grew wider at her obvious wonder. He cupped his calloused hands to his mouth, to call over the shriek of the lightning crackling in her palm.

"Perfect, Kori!" he said. Once he had her attention, he lowered his hands, but kept his voice loud. "Now, go ahead and let it dissipate."

Her fair little brow furrowing in concentration once more, she eyed her hand as she slowly cut off the flow of chakra. In a few short seconds, the Chidori fizzled out with a few dying chirps and two last rebellious flickers of static. The quiet that followed seemed eerily so, but could not last long in the face of what had just happened.

Kori grinned at her own hand, then up at her father, before clenching her fingers into a fist. "Yes!"

"Atta girl," said Kakashi Hatake, his eyes curving in what was his signature smile. "Absolutely perfect."

With a titter of girlish laughter, she sprinted forward and threw herself at him in what was certainly a tackle disguised as a hug, one which he gladly intercepted and turned into more of a 'grab her and swing her upside down', until he had her thrown over his shoulder the wrong way up. She squirmed and protested, but being a mere seven years old, had no hope of fighting him.

"Daddy," she bemoaned, donning a severe pout on her round face, "please put me down. I'm getting lightheaded."

A chuckle rumbled in his throat, and he tried not to sound too amused. "Well, since you asked so nicely…" He flipped her back over with all the gentleness of a father who wouldn't dare harm his daughter, unintentionally or not, and set her on her feet, making sure the girl was steady before releasing her. As soon as she was free, she scampered back to her place, and planted her feet.

"Teach me another one!" she demanded, her icy eyes speaking volumes of just how serious she was.

He let out the sigh that built from his lungs at that, and flopped into a sitting position amidst the clover-speckled grass that blanketed the field. "Another one? Maybe tomorrow. We have been at this for a few hours, now."

"You used to train your students for days!" she argued, expression growing even more intense. It was almost enough to make him laugh again, but experience had taught him the results of showing his amusement at her vehemence.

So he just let his head droop to convey his weariness. "Yes, well, as much as I hate to admit it, I'm not as young as I was then. Daddy's getting old."

"You're not old." She crossed her arms, raising her chin in defiance of his statement.

He eyed her from under the fringe of silver hair that hung over his eyes, loosened from its usual hitai-ate keeper. "Is that so?"

She gave a firm nod. "Forty-five's not old, Daddy. You still have at least another forty years before you get really old."

"Who said I was forty-five?" He dodged the latter statement in favor of getting a small rise out of her.

Kori scowled, as expected. "I can do math!"

"That's not fair; you're not supposed to know how old I am. I'm supposed to be young and strong and handsome in your mind forever."

At this, she rolled her white-lashed eyes and took a few meandering steps toward him before she followed his example and plopped onto the ground, leaning back on her palms. "I know how growing up works, too. You'll always be Daddy, but you won't always be young and handsome."

He withered under her brutal honesty, though an inner part of him was glad to see he'd taught her well. "You don't have to remind me…"

She had left out 'strong', though. That was nice of her.

"Though, I guess you'll always be handsome to Mama," said the girl, staring up at the lazy clouds drifting across a canvas of periwinkle. "There's always that."

His face broke out in a smile almost on instinct. That tended to happen when the other most important woman in his life was brought up. "Hm, that is true…"

"Don't make that face!" Kori wrinkled her nose at him. "It's weird."

"What? What'd I do?"

"That's the face you make when you think about kissing Mama."

He raised his eyebrows, both at her declaration and her intuition. "And what's so wrong with that?"

"Well, _I_ don't need to see that face…"

She said it with such seriousness that he could no longer help the laughter it brought, and his shoulders were soon shaking in his mirth, while Kori just scowled.

"Don't laugh at me!"

Kakashi did his best to stifle his giggling fit, attempting to quicken the process by clapping a hand over his own mouth, in hopes of muffling any lingering snickers.

"I'm sorry… I won't do it again." He gave her his best innocent look.

One quirk of her own snowy eyebrow conveyed the depths of her belief. And she guffawed. "Yeah, right…"

He feigned hurt. "Kori, you wound me. Don't you trust me?"

"Mostly."

"Only mostly?"

"Mm-hm."

"Well, that hurts my feelings."

"And?"

More than any conversation in his life—more than those talks with Team Seven, more than those few impactful discussions with Iruka or Mo or Tenzo, more than even that ethereal chat he'd had with his father after falling to Pein—Kakashi cherished these talks with his children. They were all so bright and unique, with their own ways of seeing the world, and it was so utterly fascinating. To think that he and Tsuki had come together, with their own differing characteristics, and despite any genes, their offspring could develop into such individuals, completely separate from them. Truly a wonder.

"Will you teach Obito the Chidori too someday?" Kori asked.

Kakashi nodded. "Probably. If he's a Lightning nature."

"I'm not a Lightning nature."

"Yes, well… you're you, and Obito is Obito. You learned Fire nature easily, and as I recall, you were the one who asked to learn Lightning next."

Of all his children, Kori was the most ambitious. She looked at everything the future held for her as an up-and-coming shinobi, stared it all square in the eye, and said 'bring it on'. She wanted to learn everything there was to know, as much as her young mind could handle, and if she ran out of things to master on one level, she moved on to the next. She'd only just entered the Academy, and she was already complaining about the classes being too easy.

'Another Hatake prodigy in the making' the Council said.

Thankfully, this Council held far fewer power-mongers than the last one.

"…Koinu could be better at lots of things, but he really doesn't try very hard," Kori was saying, and Kakashi realized he'd lost track of what she was talking about. Apparently, something concerning her older brothers. "Those eyes are wasted on him… And Sokka, well, he could be good too, but he just can't see, so it's not like he can do much. And Obito's only five."

"I was five when I joined the Academy," he countered.

She gave a leisurely shrug of her small shoulders. "That's you, Daddy. Obito's not like you."

"Maybe, maybe not." Kakashi shrugged right back at her. "It's really up to each individual person what goals they set for themselves, and how quickly they achieve them."

She pursed her lips. "Hm… But if you're not doing anything, then you're not accomplishing anything, and there's really no reason for you to be there. Right?"

"Not necessarily."

"Daddy, if something's pointless, then you get rid of it."

"Sometimes."

"Why's that?"

He had to smile a little. She was so intelligent, and it made him pleased beyond words. "If something's pointless just because it's broken, you can fix it. If something is pointless because it's still growing, then you can nurture it until it's strong enough to handle the job it was meant to do."

"And what if something was made to do something, but then doesn't?" Kori tilted her head to one side, keeping her vibrant gaze leveled at her father. "It's pointless then, and if it can't do the job it was meant to do, why keep it?"

"Hmm…" He pinched his chin between his fingers, genuinely pondering the questions his daughter posed. To not do so would be to do her a great disservice. "You have a valid point. I'll have to think about that one."

She nodded once in acknowledgement of his deference, before she turned to glance toward the compound wall. "Dinner time."

As if on cue, Tsuki's voice called from inside the compound. "Kakashi! Kori! Dinner."

Kakashi gave a short, wry laugh at his daughter's show of sensory prowess, before returning his wife's call. "We're coming!"

Silence followed and let them know she had heard, and Kori heaved a short sigh. "She doesn't even bother to climb to the top of the wall… You married a really lazy lady, Daddy."

The ex-Copy Nin blushed and scratched the back of his neck, though despite his outward embarrassment, he spoke fondly. "Heh, your mother just prefers to put forth effort where it's needed…"

The little Hatake girl rolled her eyes, and rocked to her feet. She stood there, stared at the sky for a short moment, and then offered him her hand.

"Need help getting up, old man?"

His mask concealed his smirk, and he faked a weary moan as he wrapped her tiny fingers in his long, tapered, war-hardened ones. "Yes, thank you, young grasshopper. Your kindness is appreciated."

He made himself weightier than he should have the first few moments she tried dragging him up, keeping his knees slack and his balance settled back. She caught on rather quickly though, and abruptly let him go to topple back into the grass. He got up himself next time.

She did let him hold her hand as they walked back to the house. Or, that was how she might say it had any of her peers happened to see. But he knew she was his little girl, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Even if he wouldn't always be young and handsome.

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 **Reviews are love! ^.^**


	2. Chapter 1: Soritsu Kasai

**United in Blood / Part I: Virus / Chapter 1: Soritsu Kasai**

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 **KnightA3: Hey thanks! :D I really love all my OCs, but I've never really cared for fics where the OCs drown out the original characters, so... I do my best to balance it out. Hearing that people like my OCs lets me know that I'm succeeding somewhere, so thank you for that.**

 **I hope you and everybody else who's favorited or followed this story will enjoy this next chapter!**

 **-Penelope**

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Battle was the heart of the ninja world. From full-scale war to bloody genocide to six-year-olds practicing taijutsu on the Academy lawn. Two hearts, two blades, one goal—win. Without this beat of conflict, adrenaline in the blood, the body—society as it was known—would cease to exist.

And so, even in the Golden Age of peace, yet there was conflict. In the basest of forms, in a simple backyard, behind a modern home settled on ancient ground. Beneath the boughs of the sycamores, two combatants gravitated in and out, to and from a single epicenter between them. Feet pounded on the hard-packed ground of late summer, kicking up plumes of golden dust from the well-worn earth.

The two bodies, rolling like the tide, streaked from dirt, to tree branch, to grass still lush from the bygone spring. Kunai rung against kunai. Sparks drifted on the wind.

One ninja moved with limbs like new spiral cords of steel, stature made up for in limber strength. Arms coiled and struck like serpents, tapered fingers turned to daggers and mercilessly targeted soft flesh—neck, stomach, hamstring. A single landed blow would cost dearly.

The other shinobi moved like a seasoned machine, rust gathering at the joints and yet, the man moved without falter. Weathered armor layered old muscle, not as flexible but three times as strong. Resolute arms blocked every jab, and time-tested instinct guided honed eyes, ears, nose, and hands.

Sturdy bones matched wiry coils stroke for stroke, just as silver matched silver when the sun made both heads of hair gleam. Breath was reserved only for the even inhale and exhale of the predators as they drew back and then dove in. Out, in. Inhale, exhale.

Then youth surprised experience. Youth allowed itself to be caught by the ankle, thrown to the earth. But youth did not release experience; ankles caught around wrist, twisted, dragged it down. Experience joined Youth on the ground. Then Youth's knee coiled around Experience's throat, and would have squeezed.

"Hey!" An adolescent—his gangly arms and hoarse voice said 'fourteen'—sprinted onto the field, wearing an expression like thunder. How he managed to speak such volumes of disapproval with a black mask turning two-thirds of his face to shadow, nobody would ever know. "Dad, Kori, it's time to go, fifteen minutes ago! The parade's already started, and we should've been at the Square an hour ago!"

"Mah," bemoaned Kakashi Hatake, holding his opponent's leg mere inches from his throat with a single forearm. Despite himself, he dearly hoped the slightest tremble of his hand was lost to both children. "The Square will still be there, Obito. The address starts at one."

"It's twelve-fifty now!" Obito threw his arms out, flapping them like featherless wings in his exasperation. "Even _Mom's_ ready to go by now."

And that was saying a lot. Kakashi hummed, glanced at his opponent (who yet remained poised to suffocate him), and shrugged from his place on the bed of sun-warmed grass. "Good spar, Kori. You almost had me."

The sixteen-year-old Hatake girl snorted. "I did have you."

"I wouldn't go jumping to conclusions." The man's smile turned mischievous, and both children sucked in their breath. For such a smile from their father never meant anything good.

"I'll be ready. In a few minutes." With a final curve of his eyes, Kakashi disappeared in a puff of smoke, leaving Kori grappling against open air.

"WHY!?" Obito screeched.

As the memories of the vigorous spar flooded to the forefront of the real Kakashi's mind, he could hear the mournful exclamation all the way from his study. His pen paused over the page, and he took a moment to glance at the clock. Indeed, the LED numbers ticked, and displayed the ominous '12:51'.

Kakashi sighed wearily. "I was on a roll, too…"

Footsteps pounded up creaking stairs, down a beloved hallway toward this, Kakashi's haven at home. The Sixth Hokage swiveled his desk chair around, gaze sweeping over warm taupe walls to a red oak door and frame, from whence the sounds of an irritable walking reproach drew frightfully nearer. Kakashi braced himself.

The door swept open inward, and Obito stormed into the threshold.

"That was fast," Kakashi deadpanned.

The youth just seethed. "Get off your butt, d*****! We're leaving!"

"Is Kori ready?" Kakashi picked at a callouss on his thumb.

"She was ready an hour ago! You were the one sparring with her; didn't you notice her uniform?"

Kakashi gave pause to reflect. Indeed, now that he thought about it, Kori had been wearing her bone-grey flak jacket since the beginning of their faux battle. "Hm, I suppose she was…"

"So _you're_ the one holding us up!" Obito huffed, and then raked his fingers through his sprint-mussed black locks—the ones that had begun to curl in the heat last year, and hadn't stopped. "Come on, old man. Enough procrastinating. Mom just left with Koinu and Tatsu, and Kori shunshin-ed ahead of us, so we're the last to go. You need to be on the Tower in eight minutes!"

"It's only the Soritsu, you know." Still, Kakashi entreated his aging bones and rose lazily from the comfort of his chair. He stretched, and gave his back a good pop. As satisfying as hours of writing was, it certainly had its drawbacks. "Not like I'm appointing the brat Hokage or anything."

"It's procedure, Dad, and you know it." Obito folded his arms over his lithe chest. "You and Tsunade-sama are supposed to stand behind him as long as you're alive."

"Maybe I'm a ghost." Kakashi offered his uptight son another sly smile. "Maybe I'm only here out of a sense of obligation."

Obito gave a dramatic roll of his flint-grey eyes. "Since when has obligation motivated you to do _anything_?"

"It has been a while, I'll admit. But you know, the afterlife has ways of changing people." Kakashi chuckled.

"Just shut up and let's go."

At last, Kakashi relented and allowed his second-youngest to lead him out of the house and into the static-spiked air of the Village Hidden in the Leaves. The whisper of the ancient trees carried over the village wall on the breeze, and joined the subtle thrum of life within—the rush of nine million humans all packed into seven hundred square miles, feet on pavement and pumping blood.

The two Hatakes ventured from the comfort of the family compound into the streets that ran like arteries from outskirts to the city's heart—the Academy, and the Hokage mountain, those faces that overlooked the whole of Konoha in silent vigil. Kakashi felt strange, now, staring up at that distant cliff face. Mostly thanks to the fact that his visage had joined those of his heroes of old.

"You know," said Obito, looking up at the buildings rising around them, drawing Kakashi's attention back to the present. "The only reason why it's even possible for us _not_ to be late right now is because we're shinobi." The teen nudged the edge of his forehead protector.

Kakashi smirked. "Precisely."

As one, the two leapt onto the nearest rooftop and both took off at a dash, making a beeline for the hub of the day's activity—that obnoxious red tower that glowed like an ember in the sunlight, amidst the updated, modern architecture that dwarfed it. But no matter how they gleamed, no number of office buildings, museums, television studios or radio towers could begin to compare to the heritage of the Leaf. The parts of Konoha that Kakashi could remember from his childhood. Little of it was left, now, between Pain's attack two decades ago and the more recent urbanization. Rather depressing, that.

"Dad, you _are_ wearing your marked vest, right?" Obito glanced sidelong at him.

"Give me a little credit, kiddo." Despite dragging his feet about it, Kakashi had made sure to grab the flak jacket that read 'Rokudaime' on the back in crimson. He wasn't entirely irresponsible as his children liked to believe.

"I'll do that when you earn it," was Obito's retort and, despite the harsh line in the words, Kakashi could detect the smirk behind his son's mask, the one that matched his. It was a smirk that Kakashi returned with a smile.

"Here we are," said the boy then. "Hurry and get up there. They're waiting."

They paused on the edge of the city square, a monstrous slab of concrete currently filled to standing-room-only with people dressed in the brightest summer colors. Civilian and shinobi alike brushed shoulders and crowded and clambered to get a good view of the lip of the Academy tower's rooftop, where the Nanadaime Hokage would be giving his address to the people of his city.

Kakashi could remember when this spot was just an open park that brushed up against the Academy yard. Nothing but trees and underbrush.

He nodded to his son. "I'll catch up with you down below once it's over."

"Hai!" With one last definitive nod, like a soldier to his superior, Obito descended from the rooftops and disappeared among the hundreds—perhaps thousands—of milling bodies below.

Kakashi sighed, and rubbed his neck, which yet hitched when he turned it ever so slightly to the left. He needed to schedule something with Daisuke again soon…

Then, over the din of the crowd below, a single woman's voice barked at him. "Hatake!"

He raised his head, zeroing in on the source, and offered her a lazy wave before using Shunshin to cover the last hundred-meter jump to the Tower. "Yo, Godaime-sama. You're looking pretentiously young today."

She slapped. He ducked.

"What are you thinking, showing up at the last minute _again_?" Tsunade growled. "I told you last time-"

"And the time before that, and the time before, AND the time before that!" Grin fixed firmly in place, the Nanadaime Hokage—Naruto Uzumaki—strode closer, donning the traditional white, fire-hemmed cloak over his usual orange jacket. The man—goodness, could he really be thirty-two?—sported dark circles and premature creases around his cerulean blue eyes and yet, Kakashi thought he looked more relaxed than he had in a while. Perhaps Shikamaru had been helping with paperwork.

"You'd think you'd be used to it by now, Granny." Naruto chortled, while the old woman just growled again.

"That doesn't excuse it," she managed to reply through clenched teeth.

Naruto shrugged. "Nah. But you'll never stop it." The wicked grin he gave her then was certainly enough for Kakashi to know he had his student on his side one hundred percent.

With one final mumbled curse, the Fifth Hokage strode away, putting a decent distance between herself and the infuriating men that caused her such distress. Kakashi snickered at the very thought.

"We have one minute!" she snapped, before ignoring them in favor of collecting herself.

Kakashi smiled after her before turning to his once-student. Naruto had let his arms drop to his sides, and a hint of the weariness had returned. But this time, it could not dim the genuine happiness that sparkled in the Uzumaki's eyes. Those eyes that never stopped shining.

"You're in good spirits," Kakashi noted. He also noted once more, if silently, that he still had to look up to the boy who once fit under the crook of his arm.

"Yeah…" Naruto chuckled. "That would be Hinata's doing."

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. "Well, I don't need to hear about _that_."

For a moment, the blond looked confused. Understanding dawned on his face. "That's not-! Well, I mean… That's…"

"Resist the urge to explain, Naruto."

Frustration gave way to embarrassment, and the young man wilted. "Right…" When he straightened, he'd managed to get a hold of himself, and spoke more steadily. "What I meant was Hinata wants us to take a vacation this fall. Her, me, Hima, all three of us. We're thinking of heading up to the Land of Hot Springs."

Kakashi nodded slowly, with understanding. "Hm… Isn't that where Sasuke's haunting these days?"

Naruto looked surprised, as though that piece of information were a secret that most of the village didn't already know. Then he lowered his gaze to the floor at their feet.

Kakashi sobered a little. "Have you heard from him recently?"

"Sasuke?"

"No."

Naruto gave the faintest of smiles. "Oh… then… no. But he said when he went after Sasuke that he was no good at writing letters." With a laugh, the blond rubbed the back of his head, mussing his hair. "I'm the same way. Hinata managed to convince him to send _something_ every once in a while, but he isn't consistent about it."

A beat of comfortable silence passed between them before Naruto spoke again.

"She worries. She says she doesn't, but I can tell."

Kakashi chuckled. "It's a mom thing, I think."

"Probably."

"Do you know if he'll be here?" Kakashi asked.

Naruto shrugged. "No idea… but honestly, I doubt it. It's only the Soritsu, after all. Sasuke never came home for anything less than the Winter Kansei, and if Boruto's following him…"

"Maybe he'll surprise you." Kakashi offered the suggestion in defiance of his better judgment. The latter told him that it was true, and highly unlikely that Boruto would come around for something as commonplace as Konoha Soritsu.

But still. The idea was enough to gather a little more light into those bright blue eyes. That light belonged there. Kakashi hated seeing them so dull. Not when he had the Naruto of years past to compare them to.

"Yeah… maybe you're right." Naruto grinned, and Kakashi settled under its warmth. There. That was better. That was normal.

"All right, boys," said Tsunade, approaching once more. "It's one o' clock. Time to start, Naruto."

Naruto sighed and raised his left arm from under his cloak, revealing the broad-rimmed red hat clutched in his scarred fingers. "Man… Here we go again." He settled the hat on his head.

He stepped up the ledge, looming over the square, and the crowd roared. The power behind the adoration this people held for their leader gave Kakashi chills even now, despite his own time as that leader. But then, his reign had spanned the Reconstruction. It had taken decades before the people were in any mood to be as carefree and genuinely happy as they were now.

But today, Kakashi could feel the pure joy in the air. The breath of a thousand souls, safe under the watchful eye of their protectors and their leader—Naruto Uzumaki, jinchuuriki, beloved by all.

He found himself smiling again, really smiling. Pride swelled between his ribs. His student…

"Do you remember, Konoha?" Naruto began. "Do you remember where we've been? Where we came from?"

The cheering subsided enough for the Seventh's words to be heard across the square. Kakashi peered down from his place behind Naruto and to his left, and saw the glint of numerous television cameras pointed their way. Everybody who was anybody would be watching this address.

"I do," Naruto continued. "I remember an age of war… death, and bloodshed. Hatred and sorrow were the reigning powers. But look at us now!" The blond raised a hand and gestured to the towering buildings that surrounded them. "Look at what we've built together! We've created a world at peace—where parents come home to their children after work every day. A world where those children learn how to defend themselves, but are free to be human beings as well. We have made a world of prosperity and humanity."

Kakashi watched, and Naruto might as well have been shining. With the light reflecting off the red of the Hokage's cap, the breeze wafting through and stirring the cloak around him. He was a majestic sight indeed.

 _Look at what you've become, Naruto,_ he thought fondly.

"Every building around us is a testament to our resolve," said Naruto. "Every clean street and cozy neighborhood, every free man or woman that walks these paths. We are a standard to the world, declaring what we stand for."

The people couldn't see it. The smile on Naruto's face. But Kakashi could.

"And what do we stand for?" The young man's smile widened. "We stand for peace and honor. We are a ninja village! We are a force of nature, and nothing can take-"

Something cracked, like a distant pop of thunder. The sound ricocheted off the cliffs, resounded through the metropolis. Kakashi blinked.

The Hokage cap ripped from Naruto's head in a burst of gleaming red. The words died in Naruto's mouth. Something warm and oozing spattered over the right side of Kakashi's face. A deafening silence rose as every soul gathered at Konoha's center took a collective breath.

From where he stood, Kakashi could see the side of the Hokage's face. Blue eyes had gone hauntingly wide. His mouth gaped open. For what felt like an eternity, Kakashi stared at the back of Naruto's head—where a gaping wound had materialized across once-flawless golden hair.

Like a puppet cut from strings, Naruto fell. Kakashi watched. Bone fragments and an excess of thick blood spilled over the concrete roof tiles when Naruto's head hit the ground. A tiny hole, barely wide enough for a child's finger, marked the center of Naruto's forehead, and dribbled a stream of red. Somewhere below, a woman screamed. She screamed the Hokage's name.

And those familiar blue eyes went dark.

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 _A/N: i'm sorry.  
_


	3. Chapter 2: Shattered Glass

**United in Blood / Part I: Virus / Chapter 2: Shattered Glass  
**

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 **Kasani: *evil laughter* eheeheheeeheeeee  
**

 **um... enjoy the next chapter? and... don't kill me.**

 **~Penelope**

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Tsunade cursed. She swooped down, knees chafing on the concrete, and the healing green glow had enveloped her hands even before she placed them over Naruto's vacant face. She screamed for Sakura, who appeared before the last syllable fell from her master's lips.

Sakura screamed too, only she screamed for her friend. She dropped to his other side, taking up the same vigil as Tsunade, hands pulsing with that hopeful light.

ANBU swarmed the roof. They all spoke at once. Tsunade ordered some to find the hostile. Falcon declared it already done. Some operatives were ordered to dispel the chaos swelling in the square below.

The panic buzzed the air.

Hinata was suddenly there, kneeling beside Sakura and pleading with the motionless man on the ground.

Iruka Umino stood at a short distance, expression wavering on the edge between control and open grief.

Kakashi could only watch. Empty as Naruto's eyes.

Then Falcon's voice rang out clear over their heads. "-Inside! Everybody, into the tower!"

Tsunade, Sakura, Hinata, and a few other medics that Kakashi hadn't noticed arriving began gathering Naruto up from the rooftop. Kakashi watched the blood drizzle from the back of his head.

Fingers gripped his arm and while his body jumped, his mind struggled to function, like gears through sludge. He turned a blank stare to the person standing close, speaking to him.

Kori frowned, her eyes barely visible through her Hyena mask. She'd said something, but he hadn't heard, and he could tell she knew.

"Dad," she repeated, eyeing him. "Inside."

He blinked slowly. He knew he should move. But his feet felt so heavy… bolted into place.

"What…" he began.

She shook her head. "We don't know yet. Get inside, please. Fox and Salamander are checking rooftops."

Fox, a Hyuga. Salamander, an Aburame. Effective.

Like a switch, something clicked in Kakashi's mind. It had to. Right now, he couldn't be Naruto's sensei. He couldn't be Naruto's friend.

He had to be the Rokudaime.

"When you find him, bring him to the office," he said, clipped, without emotion. No, emotion wouldn't do now. Not yet.

Kori nodded. She knew what he meant. Then, in a flicker, she vanished.

Kakashi strode across the rooftop, after the posse surrounding Naruto as they descended into the safety of the Tower walls. They would take him to the infirmary here, rather than risk the trip to the hospital just yet.

"What was it?" Kakashi asked the first ANBU he caught up to. The Boar mask angled toward him, and he glimpsed clear turquoise eyes.

"Nobody's sure," said the young man, walking with an aloof purpose—distant emotionally, but close otherwise. "High velocity projectile. Small. Fragmented on impact. Result: minuscule entry wound, devastating exit."

Kakashi had watched it happen. Skull exploding from the inside… He paused as the ground lurched, as did his stomach, and he placed a hand on the wall to steady himself. The ANBU agent paused.

"Rokudaime-sama?"

Kakashi closed his eyes. Not now. It had been so long… too long since these symptoms had haunted him. He couldn't be weak now.

But behind his eyelids, all he could see was Naruto's wide, fading eyes.

He willed his gut to quiet despite how it roiled and begged him to curl in on himself. Then he pushed away from the wall, and marched onward.

 _Don't think. Act. You are shinobi._

It had been his mantra during his years in the darkness. He never thought he would have to go back to it.

The medical team ahead went on, toward the next floor down. Kakashi took a right turn on a familiar hall, and made his way straight for the Hokage's office. Boar didn't follow.

The door opened with more ease than he recalled. Recently replaced. The interior welcomed him with shadows and more modern furnishings than it had sported when he left it—he thought for good. He didn't bother turning on the lights. He crossed the room with decisive footsteps, gripped an unfamiliar armrest worn by another's arm, and sunk into the chair to wait.

It wouldn't be long. Team Ro on the hunt never failed.

He counted three minutes before the door burst in and poured forth a handful of ANBU Black Ops, two of which dragged between them a squirming figure clad in tawny brown. Kakashi spotted the Hyena mask among them.

"A Suna vest," he stated, standing to eye the strange shinobi. The man had a weathered face, obviously engrained with years of sun and sand, and a beady gaze that darted to every corner of the room, and over every masked face around him.

"He was carrying this, Lord Sixth." Fox stepped forward and set a long object on the desktop. "We believe it was the weapon used."

The object bore some resemblance to the last Raikage's chakra canon (on a much smaller scale) or, more accurately, one of the kunai launchers from the Land of Sky. The barrel, however, was longer, slender, gleaming steel settled into a wooden stock. Too small to fire kunai. Kakashi ran his fingers over the polished wood.

"What is this?" Kakashi spoke to the foreign shinobi, voice dark and dangerous. Looking at him, the idea that this frightened mouse of a man could be responsible for Naruto's… It was insulting.

"We are united by blood, and we will not be washed away!" the Suna nin blurted, closing his eyes in his desperation.

"He's been saying that to every question we ask," said Salamander, gripping his prisoner's arm tighter. "Why? We're not sure."

This man. This sad little man… Kakashi grit his teeth.

"Are you acting under orders or of your own volition?" he asked.

The Suna nin stiffened, sucked in a breath, and Kakashi knew what would come out of his mouth before he even said it.

"We are united by blood, and we will not be washed away!" The man trembled in his captor's arms.

Kakashi narrowed his eyes. Hostile chakra radiated from his every pore, and he let it. He let it gather in a dark cloud, watched as even the elite ANBU went still under its suffocating presence.

"And what does that mean?" The Sixth Hokage braced his hands on the desk top, nails threatening to dig ruts into the surface.

The Suna nin hesitated.

Kakashi leaned forward. "There is a Yamanaka on the next floor down who would be happy to break into the deepest corners of your mind to give me all the answers I need. I'm giving you the opportunity to cooperate, though I honestly don't-"

A pane in the office viewport shattered, glass spraying inward as a glittering mist. The desk rattled, a piece of the wooden top splintering. Kakashi dropped to the floor. More chaos.

"Protect the Hokage!" Kori's voice.

Kakashi reached up, gripped the edge of the desk, peered over. "No, don't-!"

The ANBU had all either ducked down, or now rushed for the bay window. The only person who wasn't close to the floor was…

"I'm sorry! I just can't do it!" the Suna nin bawled.

More glass flew. Something too fast to see sped between the lunging porcelain masks, thumped into unguarded skull, and the last man standing dropped.

"No!" Kakashi dragged himself to his feet in time to push the ANBU away. "D*****, look!"

They did, as the room plunged into dead silence. No more shots. Only the crunch of glass fragments on the floor, and the slow pooling of blood.

For the longest moment, Kakashi stared at their captive corpse. Shot to the head. Instant drop.

He turned, following the trajectory backwards, through the demolished glass and to a nearby towering hotel. The Hatake clapped a hand on the shoulder of the nearest ANBU, and as he spoke, that hand shook.

"Find the other shooter. Now."

And the operatives fled.

They took the body with them. Likely to the morgue. ANBU were efficient. At least, when they were doing their job.

As soon as the office had emptied itself, the Rokudaime Hokage threw his fist through one of the intact window panes. He watched the glass shatter, sparkle, shower down over his arm, with eyes narrowed with the rage that made his chest feel cold.

It had been a long time since he'd felt this angry.

But of all times, why now? They should have protected the asset. Not him. He was no fool; he'd ducked down. But did they trust him to himself? No. No, this Team Ro didn't know him, his cursed penchant for survival.

They were all confused and on edge. They were trying to do their job.

That didn't make their error any less grievous.

Kakashi stepped away from the window, examining the new array of cuts across his knuckles—the ones his plated glove did not shield. He watched his own blood bead on the surface of his skin.

The office door opened, drawing Kakashi's attention up and away from the depths of his thoughts. A woman with cold eyes and a familiar black bob cut strode in with a confidence that always calmed his turbulent mind and, for a fleeting moment, a breath of tension left his shoulders.

"The square is clear," his wife stated, tone dull as usual. She almost sounded unaffected by the events that transpired mere minutes ago. Yet, Kakashi knew Tsuki—he could pinpoint the slightest strain in her words, an undercurrent of gravity that she usually lacked. "I've sent Tatsu home with Obito."

Kakashi nodded in acknowledgement before sinking back down into the desk chair, bracing his elbows on the desk's edge. He took a moment to brush his thumb over the dent that the first warning shot had left in the wood.

Behind Tsuki, a young man followed after her, pace more leisurely, almost carelessly so given the circumstances. His mismatched hands—one flesh, one metal—shoved into his pockets and his shoulders sloped in inattention. His red right eye, however, snapped like struck flint. He watched his parents closely.

Tsuki stepped close to the desk, standing opposite her husband. "What do you need me to do?"

She was an intelligent woman. In fact, in the times when Kakashi dithered and hummed over a decision, she always stepped in, analyzed the two weighing options, and then put her foot down on one without looking back. That was always that.

She didn't need to be told what to do. Especially not now.

No, he heard the intent, underneath the underneath. He shook his head. "Do what you need to."

For a long moment, she stared. He met those cold eyes, allowed her to analyze to her heart's content. Those eyes darted oh-so-subtly from the set of his jaw, the brace of his hands, to the chafes across his knuckles, the sea of shattered glass around him. Then she turned away, satisfied, to fixate her stare onto their eldest son.

"Koinu," she said, and the young man straightened a centimeter, "gather the first four shinobi you meet and take word to the gates—the village is now on lockdown. No one gets in or out." Tsuki swiveled her icy eyes back to Kakashi. "Until the guilty party is found, everyone should return to and remain in their homes until further notice. The streets must be cleared as soon as possible. Hotels, inns, taverns, and the train station should be our top priorities for sweeps."

"Word from Team Ro?" Kakashi asked.

She shook her head. "Not that I'm aware of. Not yet."

Kakashi needed no more than a second to consider his wife's suggestions before he turned to Koinu with a short nod. "See that it's done."

Koinu nodded in return. "Yes, sir." He withdrew his hands from his pockets, and dashed out the door, footsteps inaudible.

As soon as he was gone, Tsuki strode closer and, before Kakashi could wonder what her aim was, laid her hand over his bloodied knuckles. He let her pry his steepled fingers apart. She ran her thumb over the stinging abrasions.

She frowned, and gave him a brief glare, wry in the quirk of her eyebrows. "You have enough callouses. Glove off." Releasing him, she turned on her heel and marched for the nearest file cabinet—it hadn't been there when he vacated this office. She reached to the top of the forest green stack, and took hold of a white case like she knew it would be there. How did she know her way around this place better than he did?

He followed his orders and removed his right glove. The sting under his skin increased, and flakes of glass wafted from the loose fabric onto the desk's surface.

Tsuki returned with the med kit and after nudging aside the stacks of paperwork aside, opened the case up on the desk between them. Amidst the assortment of tools, supplies, and pills, she rummaged and shortly withdrew a puck-sized tub of ointment and a roll of gauze.

"I can do it myself, you know," he mumbled, watching as she opened the ointment cap. "Later."

She paused long enough to let her dry expression speak her mind. He was being childish, her mind said. And she knew he would forget 'later'. She dabbed her fingers in the tub and then held out her free hand.

It was ridiculous, he decided. This whole thing was ridiculous. The stupidity of those ANBU, the man responsible for Naruto's injury, and this—his wife tending to minuscule wounds while the rest of the village boiled hot with panic like magma.

He relinquished his hand. She took it in hers and smoothed the antibiotic over the dry skin, massaged it into his knuckles and within seconds, the sting subsided.

With a general lack of finesse but efficiency befitting an ex-ANBU, she plucked what shards of glass remained nestled in his fingers. He hadn't even noticed their presence, and watched as her tapered nails discarded each red-stained sliver. Once all foreign material had been removed, Tsuki wrapped his knuckles in a thin layer of gauze—tight, conservative, but not uncomfortable or messy. A field dressing. Quick and effective.

She finished in less than a minute. Then she packed the gauze and ointment away, and returned the case to the shelf from whence it came. He watched as she moved—watched the straightness of her shoulders, that had always slouched. The rigidness of her posture, which had always been relaxed. With level eyes and regal chin raised, she took her place at his side, standing at his right as his executive assistant once had.

He knew he didn't have to speak, and yet the words left him before he could stop them. "You don't have to stay."

"I know," she said.

* * *

It was no good.

Tsunade hated her penchant for losing bets. And it seemed that no matter what deity she begged, no matter how she tried to outmaneuver or outwit fate… she always lost.

So she let the healing glow dim from her hands, and took a single, heavy step away from the blood-soaked gurney.

Two hours. They had kept him breathing for two hours.

"Enough," she dared to murmur.

"Shishou!" Sakura gasped, voice ragged from her long efforts and her frequent spiels, screaming at the prone form of her friend and comrade to wake up, stop being an idiot, _breathe_. All demands that went unheeded. "What are you doing!? I can't do this by myself!"

The other medics gathered around hesitated. They looked between the two foremost renowned medical ninja in the world, wondering which side to take. Tsunade watched them struggle, swallowed at the lost looks in their eyes.

She felt like they looked.

"Sakura…" Tsunade didn't want to finish the sentence that danced on the tip of her tongue. She didn't want to be the medic right now. Or the Hokage. Or even Sakura's master.

She wanted to be Naruto's friend.

Friend of the corpse.

Sakura stared at her for the longest time, war raging behind her turquoise eyes. Tsunade let it wage, helpless to make a difference in the final outcome. She could only hope that her student, a powerful medic in her own right, would understand.

Even if they could save him… the Naruto they knew was gone. No amount of healing power could restore brain tissue once lost.

Sakura flushed, and the Senju princess watched the furious grief swell in her eyes. The younger woman clenched her teeth, tore her gaze from her master, and poured more energy into her hands.

"Don't you let go, d*****!" She closed her eyes, forcing her chakra into Naruto's body through his eyes, nose, pores. "Come on, Naruto!"

Tsunade's eyes burned despite herself. Too familiar… too familiar. "Sakura-"

"No!" the young woman blurted, on the edge of hysteria. "I can save him. I did it once, I'll do it again!"

"Sakura!" The sharpness of her own voice startled her. But it was enough. Sakura snapped her mouth shut.

Tsunade hung her head. No matter what she was about to say, it made no difference against the downpour of guilt over her soul.

"I said 'enough'," the Sannin said, her words a din of resolution that brought down a curtain of darkness over the room. The other medics held their breath. Sakura went still as a stone angel.

"There's nothing more we can do."

Sakura's arms shook. The glow had yet to recede from her palms. She wouldn't let go.

"We…" Sakura's own throat choked out the words. She shook her head, slowly at first, growing more insistent. "We didn't come this far… _this far_ … after everything we've seen, everything we've been through… just to fail!"

Tsunade closed her eyes, ignoring the single streak of warm salt water that escaped one. She set her hand on her student's shoulder.

"No, we didn't," she said. They didn't. Naruto had achieved the impossible. Sakura had gotten stronger. Together, they mended a broken man. They defeated Pain, Obito, Kaguya. They brought Sasuke back to the village.

Yet, invulnerability was a myth. No man was invincible. No matter how desperately Tsunade wished one could be.

"But we failed anyway." Tsunade pulled Sakura away from the body on the bed.

 _Patient: Naruto Uzumaki._

 _Kawaki, Dan, Jiraiya…_

 _Time of death: 5:27 PM._

* * *

The last Rinnegan opened wide, unbelieving, as the last traces of a familiar presence halfway across the nations vanished to nothingness. The bearer stopped in his tracks, feet scuffing moist earth, cloak wafting about him in the humid wind. He blinked slowly, processing the sudden void in the unseen planes.

"Boruto…" the dark man said, without emotion. His apprentice halted at his side, turning milky Byakugan toward him.

"Yes, shishou?"

"We're returning to Konoha. Now."

Without waiting for a reply, the man leapt to the nearest tree bough, broke through the thick rainforest foliage, and bolted off at top speed, setting his destination to the south. He felt more than he heard his apprentice follow.

Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

Naruto was gone.


End file.
